Written by: Brad
The sun was sinking in the western sky when Raven slowed to a full stop and parked his motorcycle in its’ designated spot in the garage at the back of the brownstone building that housed the loft, his usually placid features mirroring apprehension. “Maybe I shouldn’t have taken off like I did,” he muttered as he seconded guessed his badly thought out actions.
He turned off the motor, removed his helmet and swung his leg over the seat of the bike. He was pulling off his gloves and nearing the elevator when the doors slid opened and two of his least favorite people stepped out.
“Well, it about time you showed up!” Troy berated. “Where the hell have you been all day?”
“You’ve really blown it this time, dick-head!” Devon sneered. “Conrad is pissed enough to finally give you your walking papers.”
“Fuck off!” Raven retorted angrily as he punched the button to close the doors on their self-satisfied smirks.
Minutes late, Raven entered the loft and removed his boots. Hearing the low humming drawing nearer, he turned to find himself facing a very irate ex-cop. Raven lost the ensuing staring match and dropped his eyes. He twisted at the fringe on his jacket and waited for the words telling him to pack up and get out.
Unable to withstand the uncomfortable silence, Raven opted for going into defense mode and angrily spat out, “Okay, you don’t have to say it! I’ll just get my stuff and get out of your life.” He glared at Conrad, fully anticipating the older man’s agreement that parting company was for the best.
Instead he heard a soft, slightly exasperated question. “What happened, Raven?” Getting a shrug, Conrad commented. “I was worried about you.”
It took several moments for Raven to realize Conrad had not agreed to him leaving; at least not before some questions were answered. Raven drew in a deep breath and tried to calm down enough to talk coherently.
“I’m sorry for worrying you but I got to the shop early and it gave me too much time to think.” Raven started pacing; getting himself more wounded up with every other step. He stopped and spun around to face his interrogator. “I suddenly wondered what the hell I was hanging around for. Why should I give this guy the pleasure of telling me to my face that my services were no longer required? So I got on my bike and I was out of there.”
“Did it ever cross your mind that Mr. Campbell might have something else to discuss with you?” Conrad struggled to keep his voice free of censure.
“Get real, man! What else could there possibly be to talk about?” Raven scowled at the older man.
“You will have to wait until tomorrow to find out,” Conrad quietly informed him.
“What? This guy a little slow or something? Can’t he take a hint?” he scoffed as he took off his jacket and hung it up.
“Maybe for some reason known only to the new owners, or at least one of them, you seem to be worth the effort being made on your behalf. Not everyone is out to get you, Raven. Get rid of that chip on your shoulder and give yourself a break. At this point, what have you got to lose?”
“Okay! What the hell! If it means so much to you, I’ll see this Mr. Campbell or whatever his name is,” Raven grumbled, still not happy with the situation.
“Good choice.” For a brief moment Conrad smiled in the face of the other man’s angry glower before sternly bringing up another matter. “Now we just have today’s rudeness to take care of.” He purposefully raised the arms on his wheelchair.
Raven blanched as comprehension hit him. He slowly shook his head at Conrad’s softly spoken “Come here, please.” He accepted his deserving of castigation but was unable to take the next step. “I-I can’t,” he implored.
“I am not coming after you, Raven. I expect you to exhibit some submission. Get over here and lower your pants.” Conrad sat patiently waiting and watched as the indecision was slowly replaced by resolve.
Raven stepped over to the older man’s right side. “This is the best I can do, Conrad,” he whispered and almost sighed with relief when Conrad’s hands lifted to undo his belt and unzip his fly before lowering his jeans and boxers. He complied with the gentle tug that ended with him facing the floor from across rock-hard thighs.
The spanking that followed more than adequately expressed Conrad’s disapproval and drove home the point that disrespect and lack of consideration for others were inappropriate behaviors.
Several minutes later, after the chastiser had turned comforter, Raven found himself sitting on the lap he had been lying over. Soothing words were being spoken and the hard hand that had been setting his butt on fire was now rubbing comforting circles on his back.
“Who cares for you, Raven?” Conrad’s gentle voice overrode the remaining hitches and sniffles. Not receiving an answer, he squeezed the man in his arms and prodded. “Someone cares about you, little one. Tell me who it is.”
“Nobody.”
“That’s not true.” Conrad landed another swat on the already sore bottom.
“Oww!” Raven yelped and reached around to swipe at the other man’s hand. “I guess you do,” he begrudgingly admitted.
“Anyone else?” Conrad used his handkerchief to wipe the tears from Raven’s damp cheeks.
“No!”
Conrad let it go as he wheeled them into Raven’s bedroom and after helping the younger man out of his clothes, waited for him to lie face down on his bed, then pulled the blankets over him. He left the room only to return shortly with a small tray.
“I bet you haven’t eaten a bite since breakfast,” Conrad commented as he set his offering next to Raven’s pillow.
Raven glanced at the comfort food consisting of a peanut butter and jam sandwich, homemade oatmeal-raisin cookies and a large glass of milk before raising his eyes to Conrad’s. It was on his lips to claim he wasn’t hungry just as his stomach made its’ emptiness known.
Fifteen minutes later, Conrad brushed the long black hair away from the sleeping man’s face. ‘When did I fall in love with him?’ he wondered. ‘God, I hope he stays around long enough for me to meet his needs and help him heal,’ he silently prayed as he wheeled out of the room with the used plate and glass resting on the tray on his lap.
The End
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